


Put Into Action

by acidpop25



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Assumptions, Bottom Fjord, Established Relationship, M/M, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidpop25/pseuds/acidpop25
Summary: Fjord doesn't quite know how to ask for what he wants.





	Put Into Action

**Author's Note:**

> This is just unrepentant smut, because there needs to be more bottom Fjord fic in the world.

It’s a small thing, really. It’s not worth complaining about. It’s not like Fjord doesn’t _enjoy_ being on top in bed– he does. Sex is sex, pleasurable no matter how you go about it (within reason). Fjord isn’t difficult to please, and he likes making his partners feel good, likes the feeling of a body quivering and writhing in pleasure beneath his own.

He’d just like to get to be the one doing the writhing, from time to time. But people have... _ideas_ about half-orcs. As these things go, it’s harmless. People who look at his green skin and broad build and see a good tumble don’t bother Fjord, because flirtation and proposition are a damn sight better than belligerence and threats. He’s had some good times out of the former, even if it’s never been with the sort of person who’d think to turn the tables.

‘Course, it might make matters easier if Fjord had any idea how to ask for what he wants, now that he’s got the opportunity to carry on with someone for more than a night or two. He catches himself fantasizing about it in odd moments: Caleb leaning over Fjord as he wakes him for watch makes him imagine that same face hovering above him in private; the deft, precise motions of Caleb’s fingers when he casts a spell makes Fjord wonder how those same fingers would feel inside him; waking early at an inn to find Caleb with an arm draped almost possessively across Fjord’s chest in sleep makes something warm twist in his gut. He wants these things, he does, but every time he means to ask he finds his words failing him in a way they never do at any other time.

The party had just arrived in a new town the evening before, which means today the Mighty Nein are scattering to run their various errands and to explore. The others lose interest immediately when Caleb murmurs something about going book shopping– or at least, they do once he clarifies that he is after arcane tomes, not smut. Fjord doesn’t much care for shopping no matter what it’s for, but he doesn’t have anything he needs to do today and time spent in Caleb’s company is better than time spent without it. Besides, his delight when he finds something interesting is contagious: it lights him up with genuine, uncomplicated joy, almost childlike in its simplicity, and the sight makes Fjord’s heartbeat stutter in his chest every time.

“You know, you do not have to go with me,” Caleb says as the last of their companions leave the inn (Nott trotting along after Jester, which is faintly worrying). Fjord smiles and settles an arm across the back of Caleb’s chair, not touching but present, protective.

“I know. Just thought it’d be nice– unless you were hoping to get a little space to yourself today, in which case I’ll leave you be.”

“A little space from the group, maybe.” Caleb glances up at Fjord, blue eyes bright under his pale lashes. “You know, I do not need to go out right away.” It’s as close to an outright proposition as Caleb ever makes, and Fjord can’t help but grin a bit in response.

“No? Well in that case, might I recommend you retire to your bed for a while longer? I’m sure the road’s been keeping you from getting any proper relaxation.”

“I think that is a very smart idea. Shopping later, then.” Caleb pushes back his chair and rises, the faint hint of a smile playing about his lips, and heads toward the stairs. Fjord watches him go, fails utterly to wait long enough for propriety, and follows after.

“Too long without a bedroom, ja?” Caleb says when Fjord comes in and locks the door behind himself. He’s already removing clothing, hanging his coat over the back of a chair and then shrugging out of the straps of his spellbook holsters. Fjord is entranced by the movement every time: it is fluid, nearly graceful, in the same way as Caleb’s hands when he casts. Most of the time Caleb seems just a bit out step with his own body, but when he’s holding a book or using magic he moves with all the surety of a dancer. Once the spell books are set safely aside, Fjord steps in close and bends to kiss him, hands finding the sharp crests of Caleb’s hip bones. Fjord feels the warm wash of air as Caleb exhales what would be a sigh if it weren’t through his nose, and he reaches up and cups both sides of Fjord’s face as they kiss, one thumb brushing tenderly along Fjord’s cheekbone. It’s a long, indulgent kiss– they so rarely have the luxury of both privacy and time.

When they part next, it’s for Caleb to peel his shirt off over his head, and Fjord means to do likewise but gets hung up watching Caleb instead. The morning light slanting into the room bathes Caleb’s skin golden and reveals every freckle dusted across his shoulders and chest, the faint rose flush he gets from arousal and being looked at both.

“Fjord,” Caleb protests, snapping him out of his daze, and pushes at Fjord’s shoulders with an impatience that’s probably slightly more than half embarrassment. And Fjord– he’s a little stronger than Caleb, but not by that much, not really, and he wasn’t expecting it. The shove tips his balance enough to make him abruptly sit on the bed to avoid falling over entirely, and the sound that escapes him is barely more than a whuff of air, really, but it’s… not a displeased one. Caleb’s tongue darts out over his lips.

“I– sorry,” he begins, unsure if he should be apologizing, but he shouldn’t be, he _shouldn’t_ , because he might have just stumbled right into what Fjord wants without him having to try and explain it in words at all. Fjord shakes his head and tugs his shirt off with alacrity, toes off his boots and then deliberately lets himself fall back flat on the bed. Caleb’s eyes widen in surprise, but it’s good surprise, the kind that sets his thoughts visibly whirring with possibility behind his bright eyes. 

“C’mere,” Fjord says, and his voice comes out even deeper than usual. Caleb climbs on top of him, sits astride his hips and curls down for another kiss.

“You should have said,” Caleb murmurs against Fjord’s mouth. He cards a hand through the longer hair on top of Fjord’s head and presses closer. 

Even if he could explain, talking isn’t what Fjord wants to be doing right now. And Caleb, clever, _clever_ Caleb has figured out exactly what he _does_ want; the anticipation alone has Fjord’s pulse pounding in his ears.

“You want to?” Fjord asks instead, and Caleb makes a sound that is half incredulous and half turned-on and kisses Fjord fierce and desperate-deep before he answers.

“Ja, _yes_ , of course I do. Fjord, you are… how could I not want you any way I can have you?”

Fjord’s face feels hot; he knows he’s probably flushing that unflattering dark brown-green and can’t bring himself to care. “I haven’t exactly… done it this way much. A couple times, ages ago.”

“That is good to know.” Caleb shifts off of him so he can nudge Fjord up the bed to lie down properly instead of crossways, then crawls back on top of him and resettles. Fjord groans at the pressure against his cock and grinds up toward Caleb’s answering hardness, and Caleb’s accent has thickened the way it does when he’s aroused, but he also looks completely serious when he tells him, “I will do my best to make it good for you, and you will tell me if it isn’t, okay? Or if you want to stop?”

“Promise,” Fjord answers. He knows he won’t want to stop, but he appreciates the gesture all the same. “Now if we’re done talking, darlin’, I’d like you to put that plan into action.”

Caleb knows he’s being goaded; it shows in his eyes. Still, he lets it happen and kisses Fjord hard and deep before moving to the hammering pulse at the side of his neck, the ridge of his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, and on down to scatter kisses and bites down Fjord’s chest while his hands are busy with the rest of both of their clothes.

Fjord groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, when Caleb moves his mouth to Fjord’s cock. He licks and sucks around the head, traces the tip of his tongue up the underside, none of it enough to really satisfy. Fjord’s skin feels too tight, hot and buzzing with need, and looking down to see Caleb staring right back up at him makes Fjord feel lightning-struck with desire.

“Caleb,” he rasps, and Caleb pulls off, smiles a little and gives the tip of Fjord’s cock a parting kiss before he slides off the bed to dig through their things for a bottle of oil.

“On your front or your back?” Caleb asks. Fjord spares a moment to think of it, imagine Caleb pounding into him on hands and knees, but–

“I want to see your face.”

Caleb looks away, embarrassed, but nods agreement. “Bend up, then,” he says, and hooks a hand behind Fjord’s knee to lift his leg and settle it over his shoulder. At the first touch of warm, slippery fingers Fjord _twitches_ , a full body thing– not a flinch, but an involuntary pulse of pure want. It’s been so long since he’s had this, and gods above, Caleb’s long fingers are every bit as precise and devastating in Fjord’s body as they are casting a spell. It almost feels like this _is_ magic, it’s so impossibly good. The slow, intimate stretch; the faint crease of concentration on Caleb’s brow when something has his complete focus. Fjord is panting harsh, needy breaths, not quite voiced enough to be moans but close. He never wants it to stop; he wants it to stop _right now_ so Caleb can be in him, already. Fjord is strung tight, fingers clenched in the sheets with impatient need.

“Easy, Fjord,” Caleb croons, stroking his free hand soothingly down Fjord’s side. Fjord loves the way his name sounds in Caleb’s voice, especially in bed, something primal in that heavy accent that goes straight to Fjord’s basest instincts. “Are you ready?”

“ _Yes_.” He doesn’t beg, but it’s a near thing, and Caleb certainly knows it. He knows exactly what he’s doing to Fjord. Caleb murmurs what sounds like affirmation in Zemnian and turns his head to press a kiss to Fjord’s leg as he withdraws his fingers, and Fjord is _aching_ for it.

Caleb pushes into Fjord’s body in a slow, controlled, but relentless press, and Fjord moans deeply, could almost sob for how good it feels. Caleb is quiet– he usually is– but his breathing is harsh and fast and the hand that has been holding Fjord at the hip grips him so hard that the skin beneath Caleb’s fingers goes the pale green of sea glass.

“Caleb,” Fjord groans, reaching for him, and Caleb shifts Fjord’s leg to press their torsos close enough for a kiss.

“Ist gut?”

“Darlin’, if you don’t _move_ –”

Caleb gives a throaty chuckles and does just that, the first thrust deliberate, almost testing, looking for Fjord’s reaction. It doesn’t disappoint.

Caleb sets a steady rhythm, forceful but not rushed: a gradual, relentless push towards orgasm, just enough denial to make Fjord arch and curse beneath him. He wants to come right now; he wants Caleb to keep fucking him like this forever. He could come like this, just from Caleb inside him and the intermittent friction of his cock between their abdomens, but when Caleb shifts his weight to free a hand and touch him, well– well, after that it doesn’t take much. Fjord’s orgasm burns through him like white-hot fire in his veins, the aftershocks almost too much when Caleb fall over the edge with him. For a long while they are silent except for their heaving breaths, Caleb’s slight weight sprawled across Fjord.

“Maybe… maybe we could do that again sometime,” Fjord finally suggests, just a hint of question in his voice. Caleb lifts his head to meet Fjord’s eyes and gives him one of those rare, soft smiles of his.

“I would like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday gift for my friend Chu.


End file.
